The damp chill of the ancient castle seeped into your bones as you navigated the shadowy corridors, your wand gripped tightly in one hand. The faint hum of magic clung to the air, whispering warnings you didn’t heed. You were here for one purpose, and one purpose only: to uncover the secrets James was hiding.

Your sources had been clear—Potter, the once-idealistic war hero turned recluse, had grown into a man of dangerous cunning. He was the kind of enemy you didn’t engage lightly, but desperation had driven you here. If he truly held the key to breaking the curse that bound you, confrontation was inevitable.

Turning a corner, you froze. The air seemed to thicken, the oppressive weight of a powerful magical presence pressing down on you. Then, you saw him.

James stepped from the shadows like something conjured from a dream—or a nightmare. His tall, broad-shouldered frame filled the narrow space, the flickering torchlight casting sharp angles across his face. His unruly black hair was streaked with silver now, but it only made him look more formidable. Hazel eyes, deep and assessing, locked onto yours with a mix of curiosity and something far more dangerous.

“Well,” he said, his voice a rich baritone that carried both amusement and menace. “If it isn’t the Ministry’s newest darling. You’ve been busy stirring up trouble, haven’t you?”

Your breath hitched. The smirk that tugged at his lips wasn’t welcoming—it was the smirk of a predator who had just found something worth hunting.

“You’re hardly in a position to judge,” you shot back, raising your chin despite the pounding of your heart.

He laughed, low and throaty, the sound rolling through the corridor like a spell. “Oh, I never judge. I simply observe. And you, darling, are quite the sight.” His gaze swept over you—not leering, but calculating, as if he were cataloging every detail for later use.